


The First Six Times (AKA The Courtship of Chibs and Ella)

by GazDibMama



Series: Unexpected Arrangement 'Verse [3]
Category: Sons of Anarchy
Genre: Drunkenness, F/M, Family, First Kiss, First Meetings, First Time, Humor, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-22
Updated: 2016-06-22
Packaged: 2018-07-16 15:54:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7274338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GazDibMama/pseuds/GazDibMama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What the title says. From Chibs POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The First Six Times (AKA The Courtship of Chibs and Ella)

**Author's Note:**

> In a deviation from the norm, the lovely WillowFaerie82 took a gander at this, or at least the first five meetings. The sixth will be a surprise. All the mistakes are still mine though and should not be held against her in any way.
> 
> This takes place two and a half years before the events in 'An Unexpected Arrangement'.

Prologue

Chibs woke up in a soft bed that wasn’t in a room that smelled of soulless sex and cigarettes. Of booze and weed. Of motor oil and dusty leathers. No, while this room certainly smelled of sex, it had been anything but soulless. And under the cigarettes and weed, there was a distinctly feminine smell to the room. It reminded him of an untainted stream in the Highlands of his birth country. Clean, but slightly sweet, that if you were to breathe it in too deeply, or too quickly, it would make your head spin.

Looking down at the long, lithe redhead who had her head on his shoulder, he smiled. She had a long arm thrown across his chest, and one of those endless legs tangled with his. He could feel her pert breasts pressed up against his ribcage.

He couldn’t remember the last time he woke up with a woman in his arms, the last time he let a woman fall asleep in his arms. But he already knew she was different. Although last night was the first time she took him into her bed, took him into her body, it was the sixth time they’d met. In his world that was a long courtship.

He laid there quietly, allowing his mind to wander back, trying to hold on to this moment for as long as he possibly could.

The First Meeting

It had been at one of the local liquor stores. He had been on line behind her as she bought wine and cigarettes. He had been admiring the view from the back. Long legs clad in hip riding skinny black pants. And instead of the stripper heels he had become accustomed to seeing, she wore a pair of simple black ballet flats. He remembers thinking that they looked natural on her.

He had admired the subtle curves of what he now knows to be a diver’s body, the fitted white button down shirt showed off.

The way the sunlight through the store window had sparked her dark copper red hair.

He remembers her laugh, husky in the back of her throat when Larry asked for her ID.

When she turned to leave, the striking beauty of her face with gray eyes that reminded him of the Glasgow sky. 

He can still feel the brilliance of her smile as she nodded to him on her way out. The warm, amused and slightly accented tone of her voice as she threw a “Have a good night fellas.” As the door was closing behind her.

He hadn’t been able to resist asking Larry about her ID. When Larry told him her age, he had shaken his head in disbelief. She was only five years younger than he was. He’d thought he was nearly old enough to be her Da.

The Second Meeting

The second time was in the liquor store again, about four days after he saw her the first time. This time there were two others on line in front of them. He remembers the heat that spread through his belly when she smiled and said hello, introducing herself, Ella. He thought it a simple yet elegant name that fit her well. He remembers the surprise as he told her to call him Filip.

Another surprise when she gets to the counter and asks Larry for her smokes and a bottle of Glenfiddich. It nearly makes him hard now thinking of her comeback to his slightly patronizing comment about her good taste in spirits. “I’m a quality over quantity type girl.” With a saucy grin, she looked him up and down. The wink as she told him to have himself a “Good evening.”

How he had stood there dumbfounded for a moment and then had let out a large laugh. Mary, mother of Christ, she reminded him of girls from home. She may not have had the accent, but there was something in her attitude that just screamed Scottish Ginger. And he’d always thought of them as the lioness of all women. If a man could tame one of those, then the others knew you had brass balls.

The Third Meeting

The third time was two days after their second liquor store meeting. He had been with Jackie, riding through on Charming’s main street. He had noticed her disappear behind a small mountain of boxes on the sidewalk in front of a three floor building two doors down from Floyd. 

He can still see the confusion on Jackie boy’s face when he signaled he was pulling over. That is until he saw the lass. How he himself had nearly laughed. This was the third time he had run across her, and each time she had been dressed so differently. The first it was simple, yet modern. The second, she had been wearing a long hippie like halter dress. Today it was charcoal Dickie’s work pants and a Pearl Jam t-shirt with a pair of plaid Converse. The lass was a chameleon. He kind of liked it.

He can remember Jackie’s shite eating grin as they got off their bikes. He had shaken his head at the lad. Even then he had known that wasn’t all there was to it. Since Fi had sent the divorce papers, a part of him had felt adrift, and there was just something about this woman that felt like an anchor.

He also remembers the look that the lad gave him when she called him Filip. And the fact that she caught the odd look. “Not usually referred to by that name, hmm?” A cheeky look on her face.

How he was shocked when he tried to explain the nickname Chibs, she waved him off. “Scottish slang for knife.” She had given him an appraising look that Jackie spent hours later ridin’ him about. “Fits.” 

How as they helped her bring boxes in he was content to listen to the interaction between her and Jackie. Hell, the lad was already asking the questions he wanted to know the answers to. She had moved here a month earlier, but had spent most of that time getting her house in order, which was only a few blocks from Jackie’s. Yes, she was single, having been married once. And since that divorce had gone so well she had felt no need to repeat the experience, because it really just couldn’t be improved on.

How he had laughed as Jackie had tried to parse that. The younger man just looked at her. “So what you’re saying is you’ll never get married again.” Then gave her an odd look. “You just couldn’t say that?”

That’s when she almost answered his other question. Where the almost unnoticeable accent came from. “Sorry. Occupational hazard. Writer.” Then grinned. “That linear enough for ya?”

He had finally broken in. his curiosity gettin’ the best of him. “Where?”

She had looked at him, gray eyes sparkling. “The United Kingdom. Mostly London. But that one ex-husband? Highland Scot, born and raised outside Inverness. So I’ve spent some time there.”

He had grinned. “Really? How long did ye live in the UK?”

He recalls how he could see her thinking. “Moved there in ’92, so 21 years. But I started going to visit when I was nine.” She grinned again. “Pen pal. And before ya laugh, he’s still my best friend, even if I do want to murder him right now.” She had waved her arms at the boxes that had just been brought in. “Twink decides he’s gonna drive New York to California, just like Kerouac. Except this prick has internet, a credit card, and a list of fucking estate sales. So while he’s having a ball living his beat dream, these fucking piles of boxes just randomly show up.”

Both he and Jackie had chuckled at her rant. He couldn’t help himself, he had reached over and patted her arm. “Don’t worry lass, we were happy to help.” He had enjoyed how warm she was, when she had placed a hand on his giving a little squeeze. “But I gotta ask. Twink?”

“It started as twinkle toes and over the course of a few hours of me, totally fucking wasted when we were twenty-two, trying to drive him crazy, it was whittled down to Twink, and it stuck. Actual name is William, or as people who aren’t super close to him call him, Will.” She explained. “And yes, he is gay. Openly and outwardly gay.”

How before either he or Jackie could respond her cel had gone off. When she had looked at it, an evil, but as he found it, alluring smile formed as she answered it. “Speak of the devil and he calls.” He had noticed that she was holding the phone away from her, so she could yell a little. “You had better be calling me to tell me that you have crossed the border into California, because I’m getting tired of surprise visits from Fed Ex. Can’t even get a joint lit when one of your little presents shows up. What the fuck are you on? Pure MDMA? You just feel a need to spread the fucking love?”

How by the time she had finished the phone call he had learned that she had little tolerance for things that disrupted her plans, she was capable of speaking for long periods of time without taking a breath, which he had filed away for future reference, and she wielded sarcasm like a fine blade. Which was a trait he appreciated.

He recalls after that how she had turned the tables on both he and Jackie, ferreting information out of them both. That Jackie was married with small children, and how Jackie’s wife was in jail, and that he was divorced with an adult child in Belfast.

He remembers how Jackie asked if she had kids. Even though she had seemed nonchalant when she answered, how he caught something in her tone that spoke otherwise. “No. Had health issues when I was twenty and was told it was probably never gonna happen for me. And I just never settled down enough to think about anything like adoption. Never really felt that maternal anyway.” Then he had realized what he heard wasn’t acceptance, it was resignation. But knew he hadn't, and still hasn't known her long enough to call bullshit on her about it yet.

He can also remember how before they left she had torn a box apart looking for a particular book. “Aha! Knew it was in here.” The grin on her face when she handed it to Jackie. “Twink will want to kill me for this, okay, not kill me because he's Twink and I'm me, but I told him he’d pay.” The look on Jackie’s face when he looked down at a signed copy of Dr. Seuss’s ‘If I Ran the Circus’.

“I can’t take this darlin’, this is somethin’ you could make some money from.” Jackie had tried to put it back in her hands.

She had stood there, arms crossed, staring Jackie down. “Would your boys like it?”

He can remember Jackie rolling his eyes. “It’s Dr. Seuss, of course they would. But, that…”

How he did laugh at the look on Ella’s face, he already knew Jackie had lost the battle. “Then you will take it, read it to them and they will enjoy it. Maybe you will too. The book’s purpose will be served.” Pinning Jackie with those Glasgow gray eyes. “And if you don’t mind, I’m more than capable of dealing with my financial needs. And trust me, that book? In reality, only worth a couple of hundred bucks. And that’s only because it’s signed and he’s dead.”

How he had thrown an arm over Jackie’s shoulder. “I’d listen to the lass, if she was married to a Highlander, she can probably kick your arse.” Then laughing. “Or at least give it a good go.”

But what he remembers most is how after Jackie had walked out of the shop, she had put a hand on his arm, holding him back. “I didn’t get a chance to thank you for helping bring those boxes in.” How she leaned over, kissing him on the cheek and whispering in his ear. “Thank you, Filip.” The smile as she stood out front, watching them ride off.

The Fourth Meeting

The fourth time she had actually come to him. Three days later. He had been working on a bike at TM when all of a sudden he heard Tig whistle. “Fuck me. I’m not a guy for cages, but I’d drive that.”

He had looked up to see a vintage Aston Martin dbs, hardtop, black. How he had smiled at Tig. “Ye have no idea brother.” He remembers how he had just known it was her. 

How Tig had stood confused when she climbed out of the right side. “Must be havin’ trouble with the driver’s door.” 

How he had laughed. “Nah, lass has a proper cage, right side drive.” How he had walked away from Tig and over to her. That day it had been skinny jeans with knee high black leather boots and a simple black, form fitting sweater. “Decided ye couldn’t go another day without seein’ me, right lass?” 

How she when smiled at him, he had realized he had missed it over the previous few days. “Yes.” And then laughed. “And to get an oil change.” 

He remembers looking over and suddenly seein’ everyone gathered together, watchin’ him talkin’ with the lass, like they were a fuckin’ TV show. How Jackie just gave him another shite eatin’ grin while the lad was whisperin’ to Gem. 

He also remembers how she hadn’t just ignored them; she had baited them. How the second she noticed the gathering, she had moved closer, giving him little touches, often. “So, while your MC family is deciding if I’m friend or foe, can you guys deal with the Aston or do I need to go to some sort of import dealership?”

How he had laughed at the fact that she was totally aware of what the others were doing and it didn’t faze her in the least. “We can handle it lass.” He had taken her by the elbow. “Why don’t I introduce ye so they can all get back to work. Plus, Gem will need ye to fill out paperwork.”

How she had seemed to not be intimidated by any of them, not even Tig and Happy who most knew instinctively were extremely dangerous men. That when it was pointed out to her by Gemma she had just shrugged. “I’ve met a lot of intimidating people over the years in the course of my writing career. And have learned not to show it, otherwise I don’t get the interview or story I want. After almost thirty years of it, I hide it well.”

He remembers the look of pure shock on Gemma’s face when Ella informed her that she was almost forty-three. “Holy fuck sweetheart, who’d ya sell your soul to? Ya look twenty-five.”

He recalls how he had liked how she had blushed a little at that, she did have some humility. “Good luck and good genes, because I know it’s not living right.”

That she had stayed while he did the oil change on the Aston, sitting at one of the picnic tables smoking and talking with Gemma. How he had felt bad because he knew Gemma would be rakin’ her over the coals, makin’ sure Ella was good enough for one of ‘her boys’. He can remember the ‘don’t worry, I’m fine’ smile Ella gave him the third time he looked over.

He remembers being really surprised when after he was done, and she had paid for the oil change, how Gem had asked her if she wanted to go with her to pick up lunch for everyone, maybe stay, and have some lunch with them. The heat that flared in his belly again when she smiled at him, accepting Gem’s invite.

That she had been gracious as everyone had questions for her at lunch. Starting with her gorgeous ride. That had been Happy. She had grinned at the Tacoma Killah when he asked about the right side drive. “Fuck. You live in the UK for twenty plus years and not get used to right side drive. It feels weird to drive anything else. Cost me a fucking fortune to have it shipped over.”

Of course Gemma was the one who asked how she afforded that. How Ella smiled just a bit. “First of all, I make good money writing. Second, I divorced really well. Really well. My ex and his family were extremely generous.” He had noticed how everyone looked at him like he had just won the golden ticket. And how he had hoped that she hadn’t.

Gemma had continued, asking if she had gone back to her maiden name, or was the name on her credit card the married name. How Ella had laughed. “Married name. It’s a great name. And as my former father in-law said, suits me far better than my maiden name, and that I divorced his son, not the clan.”

It was Juice who had asked what her last name was. How she had smiled at him when she answered, knowing he would probably recognize the name. “Kinloch. Which is far better than Garrison.”

How he had nearly choked, Tig having to beat on his back for a moment. He looked at her with disbelief. “As in the Kinloch’s? As in the Kinloch hilt?”

She had reddened a bit, and then nodded. “Duncan is Lord Robert’s second son.”

It was Tig that had responded, apparently for everyone, since they all nodded. “Lord? Kinloch hilt? What the fuck are you two talking about?”

How she had grinned at Tig. “Yes, Lord. The UK still works on a class system. Duncan’s father’s actual title is Lord Robert, Earl of Kinloch. And the Kinloch hilt? That’s the jeweled hilt of the sword that Bonnie Prince Charles gave to the then Earl of Kinloch for hiding him from the British in 1746. Even though the English had conquered most of Scotland, at that point in history, Highlanders were still seen as barbarians, and even worse, Catholic barbarians. And those barbarians managed to hide him from the most powerful empire on the planet for five months, until he realized his cause, which was to claim the English throne, was lost and he absconded to Europe with his mistress, one Flora MacDonald.”

Tig had looked at him. “Did you know that?”

How he had rolled his eyes. “Yeah. Scottish and Catholic, Tiggy. The tale of Bonnie Prince Charlie is a bedtime story for Catholic Scottish children.” She had grinned at that. He looked back at her. “Guessing you’ve told that tale a time or two?”

She laughed. “Yeah. Duncan’s nieces and nephews. It is a favorite.”

He recalls that she had looked at him, eyes begging him to change the subject. He liked that she hadn’t wanted to talk about her former in-laws. He had the feeling it had nothing to do with being embarrassed by them, just wanted to be seen for herself and not who she had been married to at one time.

So he had rescued her by asking about what she wrote. “So you’re still a writer then?”

She had nodded gratefully. “Oh yeah. Columns can be emailed, and I’ll still do interviews, probably not as many as before, which is fine with me. Paul still calls when certain people request me, but other than that I write my monthly column for him for a music magazine, and then I have a twice weekly column for one of the daily papers over there. Plus, another couple of monthly columns for a couple of different magazines.”

He recalls how that had gotten Jackie’s attention. They had all noticed how he’d been scribbling in those little pads for at least a year now. “So all you write about is music?”

She had shaken her head. “For a couple of magazines I do. For the newspaper, I actually write about American politics and popular culture in general. Then my other monthly column is for a monthly book review magazine.” Then she had grinned. “I have wide ranging interests.”

He can remember how everyone had looked at her like she had been dropped from a spaceship. Gemma speaking for them all. “You’re a weird chick, sweetheart.”

And how he could have kissed Ella right then and there when she grinned at Gemma. “Oh God, you have no idea.” And then had started to laugh. “But I’m a fun weird, not bat shit crazy weird.”

He recalls that when she had gotten up to leave, he hadn’t wanted her to go, because he knew he was leaving in the morning for a few days for a run north. “Ye sure ye have to go luv, I’m pretty much done for the day.” Which wasn’t true, but he knew no one would mind him slacking a little.

How she had smiled sadly. “Yeah. I actually have to go to San Francisco for work. Not the fun work, the political work.”

He remembers how he had looked at her seriously for a moment. “Not a place you’d take a scarred Scottish biker?” And how her answer had spun him around.

“Not a place I would take anyone I like, well, not unless I was mad at them. It’s a fundraiser. The only reason I’m going, is because I was invited by a friend, and I promised.” She had used air quotes as she said the word friend. “Like someone would do that to someone they call a friend. Trust me I’d rather be here.” How she had put her hand in his when she said here.

“Well, I don’t want to be the cause of ye breaking a promise. If it isn’t too late, ye could come back by.” He had known he had sounded close to pleading, and hadn’t fucking cared.

He can still feel how she squeezed his hand. “Spending the night. The only good thing about stupid shit like these fundraisers? Open bar.” She grinned at him. “I should be ready to flee at about eleven. You could meet me there.”

Then it had been his turn to smile sadly. “Sorry luv, leaving about five am to make a run up north.”

How she had chuckled when she had rested her head into his chest. “Well doesn’t that just suck all around?”

“Aye lass, that it does.” And he had placed a kiss on her head, not even thinking about it. “I’ll be gone four, five days at the most. If ye need anything, Jackie and Gemma will be around, ye can call here for ‘em.”

“Okay.” He recalls how she had placed a small kiss on his lips before getting in her car. “Be safe Filip, see you soon.” And then she was gone.

The Fifth Meeting

The fifth time was the night he came back from up north. He had called Jackie at about seven that evening, letting him know that he, Tig, and Happy would be back in a couple of hours. 

How before he got off the line he asked the same question he had asked every day he had been gone, had Ella called or come by TM?

How this time he had heard the smile in Jackie’s voice. “She called Mom a couple of hours ago asking if there was a bar with good food in town. Mom directed her to Risky’s. Asked why, guess she said it was an anniversary and she needed to get drunk. Mom told me if you aren’t back soon, I’m supposed to go babysit.”

He can remember wondering what kind of anniversary would drive the lass to a bar. “Why don’t ye go keep the lass company until I can get there. Wouldn’t want the lass to get herself in trouble.”

How Jackie had laughed. “She does seem like the type to find some trouble, doesn’t she?”

He had chuckled. “Scottish Ginger, lad. They’re the definition of trouble.” Still chuckling. “She may not have the accent, but she’s got the attitude.”

Jackie had agreed. “I can see that.” Then he had laughed. “Okay, I’ll go sit with her, make sure she behaves until ya can get there. See ya soon.” How the lad had sounded like he was fine if they took their time gettin’ back. 

He remembers by the time he had reached Risky’s, Ella was already pretty drunk. Tig had decided he wanted to come too, wanted to see the weird chick hammered. He had rolled his eyes at SAMCRO’s SAA. “If that’s the only reason ye want to tag along Tiggy, then ye might as well go back to the clubhouse. Lass isn’t a display at a fuckin’ zoo.” Tig had said he was hungry and was gonna get food, seeing Ella hammered was the bonus. He had just decided to ignore Tiggy, sometimes that was just the best policy in dealing with the man.

He can remember how when they had walked in, Jackie had made a beeline for them. “Good, you’re here.” He grinned. “Brother, she is shitfaced. Guess she’s been here since about five-thirty. Already made it through about two thirds of a bottle of Macallan.” Jackie had grabbed his arm, pulling him away from Tig, who was heading for the bar.

“She’s been askin’ where ya are.” Jackie looked at him intently. “And I’m warnin’ you, the anniversary she’s gettin’ blasted over? Not a good one. Just ask, she’ll tell ya.” Jackie had laughed. “Another thing? Alcohol? Total truth serum, brother. Ask her anything, she’ll give ya an answer.” Jackie had laughed again. “It’s been pretty entertaining.”

He had taken in everything Jackie had told him, focusing on the fact that she had been asking for him. He had smiled at Jackie. “I’m sure. Thanks for sittin’ with her, I’m sure ye want to get home to the lads.” 

Jackie clapped him on the shoulder. “No worries brother, like I said. Entertaining.” Jackie sounded like he was having the most fun he'd had in years. Unfortunately, the way things had been with SAMCRO over the last five years, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that this was ranking up there with the lad. That thought made his heart ache just a little.

He can remember how before Jackie could say another word, Ella must have spotted Tig. He and Jackie could hear her across the bar. “Tig! Filip had better be with you!”

How Tig had shouted back. “Ella!” Walking over to her. 

He had wanted to go over, but Jackie held his arm.

“No, watch.” Jackie gave him a ‘trust me’ smile with a mischievous glint in those very blue eyes. He'd nearly forgotten what Jackie looked like when the lad forgot about the weight on his shoulders. 

When Tig got over to Ella, she stood. For a moment. Sitting back down, hard. Tig had started to chuckle. “Looks like you’ve had a few.”

Ella had looked up at Tig, eyes glazed with alcohol. “More than a few, almost a whole bottle of Macallan, plus the Glenfiddich I had earlier at home before I called Gemma.” She stopped for a moment. “Oh, and the margarita’s I was making at the store while I was waiting for the stupid boxes that that little English prick keeps sending.” She stopped again, looking at Tig. “Where’s Filip? Jackson said he was going to be here. That’s the only reason I stayed. Well, that and Jackson wouldn’t drive me home. And he laughed at me when I asked about a taxi.” Sounding fairly indignant with that last sentence. He shot a look over at Jackie who was sporting a grin like a summer's day.

Tig had stood there, staring at her with a smile on his face, like she was one of the most entertaining things he had seen in ages. “He’s around here somewhere, doll.” When she had gone for the liquor bottle again, Tig grabbed it from her. “Think you’ve had enough sweetheart.”

He remembers how hard both he and Jackie had laughed at what came next. Out of the blue, Ella punched Tig, hard, somewhere between his stomach and balls, grabbing the bottle as he doubled over. She had sat the bottle on the table, grabbing Tig’s ear. “No. I. Haven’t. Still conscious. Next time you try to cut me off, I’ll cut you. Got it?” When Tig had nodded, she had let go.

Tig stood up, rubbing his ear, chuckling as he looked at her. “Holy shit doll, who taught ya that?”

He recalls the sweet smile on Ella’s face when she answered Tig. “No one. Just comes naturally.” 

How at that point Jackie had shoved him towards her, following behind. When she had seen him, how she had smiled at him, like she had been waitin’ just for him. “You’re here!” She had gotten up, weaving her way to him. For someone as hammered as she was, she was still fairly steady on her feet. She had stopped, swaying in front of him. “Finally.” She’d had her head tilted to the side, as if it were the only way she was keeping her balance.

He remembers how he had put an arm around her waist to try and lead her back to the table she and Jackie had been sitting, she had stopped him. “Need a cigarette.” Not saying a word, he had turned them, heading to the smoking area out back of the bar. He also recalls being thankful that neither Jackie nor Tig had followed. He had wanted a moment alone. Had wanted to know why she was getting completely pissed.

They had made it out back when she realized she didn’t have any cigarettes with her. “Gotta go back in, smokes are in there.” 

He had held her to him. “I’ve got ye covered, lass.” Lighting a cigarette and handing it to her.

She smiled at him. “You are the best.” After she took a drag and exhaled it, she looked at him again, drunken smile still on her face. “I’m glad you’re back, I missed seeing you.”

He had chuckled a little. “I’m surprised ye’re seein’ much of anything at the moment, luv.”

She had laughed along with him. “I am pretty drunk.” She had continued to smoke. “But nowhere near drunk enough.” Then the laughter had stopped. “Nope. Not drunk enough. Can still feel.”

He had put his finger under her chin so he could lift her face so he could see her clearly. “Why are ye gettin’ this drunk, luv?”

Her gray eyes had started to tear up. “He’s gone. Been gone for a long time, but it still feels like it was just a little while ago.” How his heart had hurt when she had looked at him with those eyes. “When does it stop feeling like yesterday Filip?” And then she had fallen into his arms.

How he had just stood there, holding her, letting her cry. He can remember wondering who she had lost to put her in this state. When she had finally settled, he had asked, and being as drunk as she was she had answered honestly. Her first love. And as she sadly said, the only person she had never had to explain herself to, he had just understood her.

After she had told him, how he had pulled her back to him. “Don’t know luv. Wish I could tell ye.”

He had given her another squeeze. “Ye know what luv? Why don’t I run my bike back to the clubhouse and get someone there to give me a lift back here, and then I’ll drive ye home. Think it might be better to finish yer drinkin’ there.”

She had nodded into his chest. “But can Jackson stay with me? Tig will make me hit him again. My guess is on purpose. That man just screams ‘freak’.”

He had nearly fallen over, taking her with him, laughing. “Ye’re probably right lass. I’m sure if Jackie’s still here, he won’t mind.” Then he had noticed how she kept calling Jackie by his full name, and had asked her why.

She giggled. “Had a cat named Jax. Pets and soap opera characters are named Jax, real people are not.” How she had startled a little when he laughed loudly and escorted her back in.

Luckily, Jackie had still been there. When they had gotten back to the table, Tig was diggin’ into a burger and fries. Both men had looked up, both noticed her red swollen eyes. Before either one of them had been able to say a word, he had told them what was goin’ on.

Neither man had looked surprised at what he proposed. After seeing what had happened with Tig, all three of them were thinking she wouldn’t hesitate to pop anyone else who pissed her off. 

Jackie had looked at him. “I’ll call the clubhouse and have someone waitin’ to run ya back.” 

He had nodded, directing Ella into a chair. “I’ll be right back, luv. Try to not punch anyone else before I get back.”

How she had looked at him with a slight smile. “By anyone else, does that mean I can still punch Tig?” How Jackie had almost fallen out of his chair laughing. And how Tig had smirked at him, quirking an eyebrow.

He had laughed. “Only if he asks for it lass.”

She nodded. “Okay.” And then she had grabbed the bottle of Macallan pouring herself another drink, and looked up to him with a wicked smile. “Which he probably will.” Then she had laughed. “Remember what I said, freak, and I lived in SoHo for twenty years, twelve of those I had the three floors above a sex shop. I know my freaks. Now go, so you can come back.” 

How he had kissed her head, chuckling. “Aye. Won’t be but a minute.” 

How as he walked away he could hear Tig laughing that manic laugh of his, still looking at her like she was the most entertainment he’d had in a time. “Doll, keep this up, I may propose.”

He recalls that when he got to the lot, Bobby waitin’ by the garage van, grin on his face. “Guess I’m supposed to run ya back to Risky’s so ya can corral a certain redhead?”

He had laughed. “For someone as hammered as she is, she’s pretty lucid, and like Jackie boy said, ‘entertaining’. Guessin’ he told ya about her and Tiggy?”

Bobby had started to laugh. “Brother, I’da paid some money to be a witness to that.” How Bobby had clapped him on the shoulder before climbing into the van. “Better nail that shit down, otherwise Tig may face stalking charges.”

He remembers that he had already had a similar thought. “No doubt.”

He can also remember that when they had reached the bar, she was standing by a navy Range Rover, right side drive, smoking a cigarette. That she had waved at Bobby as he drove off.

That when he walked over she had smiled while handing him the keys. “Like I said, anything other than right side drive is weird. Already almost been in two accidents, probably shouldn’t drive stoned ‘til I get used to the roads again.”

He had laughed as he took the keys. This no filter thing she had goin’ when drunk was very informative. “That may be for the best, luv.” How while he had driven to her house, it had felt very natural for her to take his hand.

That when they had reached her house, she pointed out her house key and telling him her alarm code stating that there was no way on God’s green earth she was going to be able to navigate a lock and key situation.

How when they got in and she turned on a light, he wasn’t surprised to see a house that was as eclectic as Ella seemed. The furniture was a mix of comfort and obvious antiques, and the entire house, at least what he first saw, was filled with books, albums, and compact discs. He had also noticed how her dining room table had two laptops and papers strewn around them. 

He remembers how she asked him if he wanted the ‘fiddich or should she crack open the Johnnie Walker blue. How he had quirked an eyebrow. “More quality over quantity?” He had chuckled. 

How she had stuck her head back out of the kitchen with a drunken grin. “Something like that. Which one?”

He had chosen the Walker. How after bringing the bottle and a couple of glasses, that she had started searching through a drawer in one of the end tables. “Thought I put that there.” She had pulled out a small plastic container. When she had opened it he could smell the weed from half a room away. “Holy mother, lass. Did ye stop in Jamaica on yer way here?”

How she had laughed. “Nah, no need. Have a friend with a horticulture degree who lives and grows in Humboldt. So now that I’m here, she’s got me set up really well, every two weeks she sends a couple of ounces down.” She laughed again as she lit a joint. “Which is really handy.”

He had chuckled as he took the joint she offered. “Aren’t ye just full of surprises, luv?”

She had grinned back. “Yep. I like to keep people on their toes. Makes life more interesting.”

He recalls that he had felt a small twinge of guilt in taking advantage of her not having a filter and asking her what seemed to be a thousand questions, although she hadn’t seemed to mind.

While they had been drinking, smoking, and talking he had decided that he was curious how she felt about the Sons and his place in the club. He had looked at her as the two of them were splayed out on the couch, her long legs resting on his. How she had looked back at him, and even in her wasted haze could see that there was something more serious coming. She had smiled softly. “What is it Filip?”

He had chuckled. “Hard to get anything past ye luv.” He sighed. “Ye know that SAMCRO isn’t just a bunch of mechanics that like to ride motorcycles?”

She had looked at him confusedly. “SAMCRO?”

He had smiled. “Sons of Anarchy Motorcycle Club, Redwood Original.”

“Ah.” Then she had gotten up and started looking at the bookshelves in the living room. He had watched as she pulled a book out and threw it on his lap. Hell’s Angels by Hunter S. Thompson. “Think I have an idea. Sons are a one percenter club?”

He had nodded. “Yeah.”

She had nodded. “And for you to have that Vice-President patch, you’ve had to prove yourself.” 

He nodded again. “Aye, lass.” Then sighed a bit. “Lass, before I was a Son, I was in Belfast.” He had hoped she would know what that meant.

Of course, she had. She nodded. “Part of the cause?”

“Aye.” He remembers how he had held his breath, waiting on what she would say.

She had studied him for a while. During that time, he never looked away from her. Finally, she had smiled. “It’s who you are, and I like who you are. At least what I’ve seen so far. So you’re part of a criminal enterprise.” She looked pointedly at him. “One of the things I’ve found in my life, very few people have clean hands, and almost all have skeletons in their closets.” Then she had grinned. “And lucky for you, the parent I like and actually listened to preached the ‘judge, lest ye be judged’ philosophy of life.”

How he had just looked at her in mild shock. How she had just smiled softly. “Anything else I need to know? At least in the short term? Far as I’m concerned, we’ll have plenty of time for the rest.”

He can recall that after getting over the initial shock, he had chuckled. “Gotta admit, lass that wasn’t the reaction I expected.” Then he had pulled her closer. “But it is an answer I like.”

She leaned into him. “Well that’s good. I’d hate to disappoint you so soon.”

He had chuckled. “Doubt ye could ever disappoint me, luv.”

He remembers how the two of them had fallen asleep on her couch. He had woken up to find his boots off, with a blanket over him. He had sat up, fishing his cel phone out of his jacket pocket looking at the time. He had shaken his head, six in the morning.

He could hear soft music coming from the kitchen. He remembers being shocked she was awake and functional. He had gotten up and wandered into the kitchen where she had been cutting potatoes. 

How she had given him a subdued smile which had worried him at first. “Morning.” She had motioned to a coffee pot on the other counter. “Coffee over there. Mugs in the cabinet above. Cream in the fridge and sugar in the little bowl next to the coffee pot.”

He had gotten his coffee and then walked over to her, still a little worried. “How ye feelin’ this mornin’ luv?”

How his worry had dissipated with the small groan that came from her. “Like I got hit by a fucking caber.” She looked at him sideways with a slight smile. “A number of times.”

He had chuckled a little. “Not surprisin’ luv, I’m shocked ye managed to stay upright as long as ye did.” Then how he had realized that she may not have remembered the previous night. 

She had shrugged. “All of my time in the UK, you learn how to binge drink.” Then she had chuckled. “Although I hate the day after. Between the hangover and the apologies that have to be given, never a good day.”

He had looked at her, a little confused. “Apologies?”

She had looked at him, a little abashed. “I did punch Tig last night. I should probably apologize even though I think he enjoyed it.”

He had grinned. “Aye luv, he probably did.” He had taken another drink of his coffee. As with her booze, the coffee had seemed to be top shelf also. He had peered at her over his mug. “So ye remember everything then?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I only forget if I drink enough to actually pass out. Didn’t pass out last night, just fell asleep because I was really comfy.” She smiled at him. It was a smile that told him that she was just fine with what had happened last night.

He had taken a drink of his coffee and smiled back. “What ye doin’?”

She had thrown the potatoes into a frying pan and went back to the fridge to grab bacon and eggs. “Traditional English hangover breakfast. I just wish I could have found blood sausage; I’ll probably have to go to San Francisco for that.” 

He had chuckled. “Aye, ye probably will.” He had sat at the kitchen table and watched her make the two of them breakfast. When she was close to being done, she had looked at him. “After we eat, and I shower, I’ll run you to the clubhouse.” 

“Sounds good luv.” He had been in no real hurry to leave her company.

He can remember that the breakfast had been good. She had even put tomato slices on the plates. It had been years since he’d had a good English fry-up for breakfast. Well, one he hadn’t made himself.

The two spoke very little as they ate. He’d had a feeling that she was far more hung over than she had allowed him to see.

And while she had taken a shower, he had walked around the living and dining room looking at all of the books in the dozen book cases scattered through the two rooms. He’d been a little intimidated by the sheer number of them. While he hadn’t advertised it; he hadn’t felt the need to take the ribbing he knew that his brothers would dish out; he enjoyed reading. It was somethin’ one could do on their own and allowed him to leave the troubles of day to day existence for a bit.

He had been so engrossed in looking at all of the shelves that he hadn’t heard her come back to the living room. When she had coughed while lighting a joint, he had turned getting another surprise.

Standing there in a pair of faded and beat to hell Levi’s that hung low on her hips and another rock t-shirt bearing the name of a band he had never heard of, the Kaiser Chiefs. Then had chuckled at the tag line on the back of the shirt when she turned to put on a pair of flats, ‘Yours truly, Angry Mob’. She hadn’t put on any make-up and other than the dark circles under her eyes, she looked even younger than when she wore make-up and her hair was damp and he had to smile at the little curls that were trying to form.

He also remembers the delight in her eyes when she had found out that he was a reader also. That had naturally led to a discussion of favorite books, genres, and authors lasting until she pulled her little Aston into the T-M lot.

Luckily it had still been early so no one was out in the lot or the garages. Ella had put her cage into a parking spot and looked at him with a smile. “Looks pretty dead around here.”  
“It’s seven in the morning lass. It’ll liven up within the hour.” He can remember chuckling.

She had shrugged. “Still adapting to the time difference.” Then looked around the lot again. “Guess I’ll have to come back later to make my apologies.” The smile on her face had been a bit mischievous. “Even freaks should be respected.” 

That had made him laugh, because she already had Tiggy pegged. He couldn’t have mustered a defense of the man even if he had wanted to. “That they should, luv.” He had continued smiling at her. “It’s Friday lass, we have church on Fridays and then…” 

She had interrupted him. “Party like it’s 1999?” Still with the same grin.

“Somethin’ like that.” He hadn’t even tried to wipe the smile off of his face. “If ye’d like, I could come get ye after we’re done in church, bring ye back to make yer apologies. There’ll be food.” He had been trying to think of other ways to entice her back that evening, knowing that most of the club would be gone most of the day.

“Filip, are you asking me on a date?” The grin on her face had been a thing of beauty. The tone of her voice pleasantly amused.

He had shrugged, returning her grin. “Depends on what yer answer is, luv.”

She had rolled her eyes as she had laughed at him. “Like I was ever going to say no.”

He had felt a warmth blossom in his chest that he hadn’t felt for years, since he had first met Fi. He had thought that it was a feeling he’d never feel again. He’d chuckled as he had patted her knee. “Then it’s a date, luv.” As he had reached for the car door handle.’’

When he had been getting ready to step out of the car, her voice stopped him. “Filip.”

He had turned, just for her to pull him back in by his cut and give him a quick kiss. She had released him with a smile. “What time am I being picked up for said date?” Her voice teasing.

He had nearly smacked himself in the head, forgettin’ something as important as that. “Eight, eight-thirty.” He had told her with a bit of a bashful smile. “Depends on how long church is.”

How he had chuckled on and off for a bit at her answering shot. “Oh good, I can totally go back to bed and still have plenty of time to dink around.” She laughed. “Because I am way too hungover to actually get anything productive done today.” Then decided to torture him. “So while you’re running around doing whatever you do, I shall be working hard at absolutely nothing. Except maybe a tan.” Her grin nearly illegal, or at least it had felt that way to him. “I’ll see you later.”

He had grinned back. “That ye will, luv. Enjoy yer lazin’ about.” Closing the passenger door.

As she had backed out of the lot, he stood at the picnic tables havin’ a smoke, watching her leave. Before pulling out of sight, she had given him a big grin, blowing him a kiss. Then peeled away before he could even wave his acknowledgement.

Shaking his head with a laugh, he had gone inside the clubhouse to shower and get the day goin’.

The Sixth Meeting

He had spent most of the day with barely payin’ attention to what was goin’ on around him, too focused on seeing Ella again to be of any real use. And for once Lady Luck had decided to smile on him and it had been as slow of a day as things got around SAMCRO in recent years.

All the guys had noticed, but for once in their lives had decided to keep their gobs shut about it. Well, all save Jackie. The lad had pulled him aside midafternoon.

“What the hell is goin’ on with you? Are you that hungover?” A smirk had planted itself on the lad’s face.

He’d tried to prevaricate, but the lad had just smiled, shakin’ his head. “Man, you’re already in deep.” Laughin’ just a little. “Good thing there’s nothin’ goin’ on today.” The lad had patted his shoulder as he’d walked off towards the office, he assumed to tell Gem the latest gossip. Sometimes his club was as bad as a gaggle of teenaged girls.

When church ended, he had wasted little time in making his way over to Ella’s. While he was prepared to drive one of her cages back to the clubhouse, he grabbed the helmet that Jackie had shoved in his hands not long before church. He had felt for the lad a little, he knew that the helmet was more than likely Tara’s.

When he had gotten to her house, he’d felt a wash of anxiousness roll over him. Why in the hell was he bringin’ a lass like Ella to an after church party? She was goin’ to turn on her heel and march the hell out as soon as they crossed the threshold. She was goin’ to see the reality and walk the hell away from him as fast as she could.

While he’d been standing there, havin’ his internal freak out, he hadn’t noticed her come to the door until she had laughed a little. “You done freaking out?”

He had shrugged. “Not sure yet lass.” With a chuckle of his own.

Grinning, she had pulled him into the house. “If it makes you feel better, I’ve changed clothes like seven times.” She had dressed for the party in a pair of pants similar to the ones she had been wearing the first time he had met her, but instead of black they were a deep red. And once again they were paired with a crisp white button down, with wide cuffs that had elaborate buttons holding them together. 

That had made him both laugh, and relax a little. “At least I’m in good company, luv.” He looked down at her bare feet. “Were ye plannin’ on shoes?”

She had laughed as she pushed him towards the couch. “Yeah, I am, smart-ass. But I’m not walking around in my own damn house in heels.” She had mock shuddered. “Seriously not that demented.” She had lit a joint and passed it to him. “I just need to feed Winston, slip into the shoes, grab my bag and then we can go.”

He had looked around. She hadn’t mentioned and he hadn’t noticed a dog last night. “Where’s the pup at?”

She had rolled her eyes. “Cat, not dog. And if you see Winston for more than a couple of minutes within the next two weeks, I’ll be shocked. He’s not a people cat.” She had grinned. “He’s a me cat.” Her smile faded some. “He’s an old kitty and he hasn’t handled the move well.” Then snorted just a little. “At least emotionally.” She hollered towards the back of the house. “You’ll forgive me one day. I feed you.” He had heard a faint meow come from towards her bedroom.

“Let me go do that and then we can go.” She had taken the joint from his fingers and taken another hit, exhaling as she walked away. As she feed her cat, he had heard her from the kitchen. “Were you planning on me riding your bike with you? Because I don’t have a helmet.” She had come back out and slipped her feet into a pair of black peep-toed heels that made her as tall as him.

He had smiled with the fact that her only objection to his bike seemed to be not having a helmet. It was a small thing, but it had done wonders for his anxiety. “Jackie’s lettin’ ye use Tara’s for now.” Not bothering to mention that if things went the way he wanted them to, he’d be gettin’ her a helmet of her own.

“That’s nice of him.” She had stopped and stood in front of him. “I think I have everything.”

He’d shaken his head at her. “Ye need a jacket, luv. It’ll be chilly when we get back.” He hadn’t mentioned the part where in case he laid the bike down she’d want the extra layer, but the chances of that were slim to none so he kept his mouth shut.

She had grabbed a black leather jacket, not dissimilar to his own, and they had gotten underway. She had ridden well for someone who claimed to have not been on the back of a bike for years. He’d smiled at how she had stressed ‘the back of a bike’. He wasn’t surprised, she seemed like someone who would at least know how to ride a dirt bike. They’re not uncommon in rural Scotland. Or he supposed any rural area.

When they had gotten to the clubhouse, the party was already well underway. After getting off of his bike, she had looked around at all of the people; SAMCRO members and prospects, plus a few NOMADS that had stopped in for church, in addition to the croweaters and hangarounds. 

He had leaned into her, wrapping an arm around her waist. “We won’t be stayin’ long luv. We’ll get some food and ye can make yer apologies to Tiggy, then we can head back out.”

She had turned to him with a grin. “You worried the big, bad, biker party will scare me?” She had shaken her head laughing. “Between backstage parties, after-parties, and clubs…” She had continued laughing. “Yeah, probably not a lot I haven’t already seen.” Then had walked off towards the clubhouse, leaving him to admire the view. Then realizing only SAMCRO knew who she was; he had hustled to catch up.

They had spent longer at the party than he had anticipated. The lass had kept disappearin’ on him. She was a far more social creature than he was used to. The first time he had to look for her, he’d found her in the kitchen with Bobby, talking about music. When he had entered the kitchen, she had turned to him and smiled. “Oh hey, I was going to come find you in a minute.” She patted Bobby’s shoulder as she’d moved towards him and the kitchen door. “We can finish this discussion a different time. Once again though, thanks for the amazing ribs.”

Bobby had smiled, pleased. “Anytime darlin’.” Then when her back was to the both of them, Bobby had given him the same look he had the night before; don’t fuck this up. He’d just nodded.

The second time he’d found her with Jackie, the lad teasin’ about how hungover she’d had to have been that morning. He’d guffawed as the lass just gave Jackie the one-fingered salute, while taking a drink from the can of soda she was holding. She’d stated before getting on his bike back at her house; she wasn’t drinking, and if she was getting on his bike, he’d better limit his.

The third time she slipped off, he watched her make her way to Tiggy, who was finally alone. The SAA grinned widely as she made her way up to him, nodding his agreement to her gesture that they step outside.

When the two had been gone far longer than an apology would take, he’d gone outside looking for them. It took a moment, but he had found the two of them sitting side by side on the far edge of the boxing ring, that for the moment was unused. That would change later in the evening, but he can remember hoping they would already be long gone.

The two hadn’t heard him come up so he could hear their conversation. They were talking about foreign lands they’d both been to, and how travelling in the Middle East and North Africa, could be both frustrating and awe-inspiring.

That’d stopped him short for a moment. In the short time she’d been around the fellas, he’d either seen sides to some of them that he hadn’t really known existed, like Tiggy expanding on the beauty of the desert at sunrise; or that hadn’t been seen for so long it was like learning them all over again; like Bobby and his love for music, and Jackie; well, it was just good to see some spark that wasn’t anger back in the lad’s eyes.

Instead of interrupting her with Tiggy, he had snuck back inside and waited for her to come back to him. He’d sat back down with Jackie, who’d laughed when he explained that Ella was making her apologies for assaulting Tiggy the night before. The two of them had sat talking about nothing in particular, just idle chit-chat, when the door opened and Ella slipped back into the clubhouse, eyes scanning for him.  
When she had noticed him and Jackie at a table, and turned to make her way towards them, a very, very wasted NOMAD grabbed her arm and tried to drag her into his lap. As he was making his way over to end the situation, he saw her stomp her foot down and throw her head back. Even with the music and chatter, he could hear the crunch of bone. 

He heard Jackie behind him. “Holy shit. She broke his fucking nose!” Laughter in the lad’s voice.

He had grabbed her, while Jackie had hauled the NOMAD up and shoved him towards Tiggy and Hap, telling the two of them to make sure the NOMAD didn’t need a doctor; then had looked at the rest of the room. Everyone else had gotten the hint and went on about their night.

He had led Ella to the table he and Jackie had been at. “Ye okay?”

She had grinned at him. “Better than that guy is.” While also tossing a ‘What was I supposed to do?’ shrug at him. 

He hadn’t been able to do anything other than laugh his arse off for a moment. After he’d gotten it out of his system, he’d leaned over and given her a kiss on the cheek. “That ye are luv.” His chest had tightened as she’d leaned into the kiss. “But it may be time to get ye home.” He had chuckled in her ear, enjoying the slight shiver that had run through her. “Ye know, before anyone else decides to get handsy.”

“You mean besides you?” She’d laughed right back, and he’d nearly dragged her off himself. He’d had to give himself a second before replying.

And even then all he’d managed to muster was a soft “Aye.”

His heart had hammered in his chest to the point he was sure she could hear it as she turned to him with the most innocent of smiles and the promise of sin in her eyes. “So, why are we still here?”  
He had stood so suddenly that his chair had almost toppled. Ella had caught it before it could fall, then had stood with a slight grin. He’d been expecting a smart-assed comment that would have been well-deserved, but she had surprised him by leaning into him, wrapping her arms around him, and giving him a quick kiss on the cheek. “I think you are kind of awesome.” The words had jammed something in his throat and made his chest tight again. All he could do was squeeze her back.

By the time they had managed to leave the clubhouse and made it back to her place, the anticipation had him nearly bursting. They’d barely made it in the door when she had turned and pushed him back against it, kissing him like she’d be graded on it.

When the had broken apart because of that pesky need to breathe, she had had looked at him; the grey of her eyes silver in the half-light of the room, shining like the stars and a wicked smile on her face. Leaning back in she licked a trail up to his ear. “You up for more than once tonight?”

He’d barely been able to nod, much less breathe when he felt the smile against his throat. “Oh good.” Kissing a trail to his lips, then attacking his mouth until his head was spinning again. When he was sure he’d been close to passing out, she had pulled away, barely. Her lips had still been touching his as they had moved. “Because I really want to blow you right now.” Dropping to her knees and deftly attacking his belt and jeans.

He’d thrown his head back against the door, hoping that would help stave off what was going to be an incredibly fast finish if she sucked his cock as well as she kissed his mouth. It really hadn’t, but she hadn’t given him time to even think about the embarrassment before she had led him back to her bedroom.

He lets the rest of the night flash behind his closed eyes. The marvel of skin unblemished by ink. The freckles that dotted her shoulders and back; one day he would take the time to count them all. With his tongue, just to see the pink flush that starts at her collarbones and works its way out the closer she is to coming apart. The way her voice went all soft and breathy as he slid into her. The way they had seemed to drag each other over the edge nearly at the same time. The more he thinks about it the more it becomes a chicken and egg thing.

But he mostly thinks about the after. After they were sated, after they had cleaned up. The lying together; breathing in time; not speaking with words, but touches as she had molded herself to him, fitting like she had been designed to be there. 

And even though there had been no words; he heard them nonetheless. “There will be tomorrow and many more after that, so go to sleep. I’ve got you.”

And she did. For as long as she'd have him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Please feel free to leave any comments, concerns, or constructive criticisms. I love hearing from you!


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